Siriusly Black
by GracieMalfoy
Summary: Tediously over used jokes, fake romances, and eating way too many Chocolate Frogs, tripping downstairs, summer wedding crashing, and bashing my head off of door frames way more than usual. And far too much more. And it all started with James bloody Potter 'procuring' himself a girlfriend.
1. PROLOGUE

**Siriusly Black**

**PROLOGUE**

I'd never had much luck. Ever since I was young I had been blessed with unluckiness, when I used to tower over the other little girls by five inches. Or when my parents thought it would be okay to name their only child, Luna Loganberry. Or when upon finding out said child was a witch, said parents treated me like I had contracted the bubonic plague. Or possibly my unluckiness showed when I got landed in Gryffindor with a bipolar red head, a girl who eats her feelings, and four raging lunatics. Or maybe my knack for being unlucky made an appearance when I nearly punched Professor McGonagall in the face, whilst aiming for Sirius Black in fourth year, and ended up in detention for a month and a half.

Anyway, I seem to have proved my 'I-am-very-unlucky' point. It wasn't that hard, to be frank.

Over time, my unluckiness never deterred me. I found that it didn't matter that I was that clumsy kid in Potions, who never had a clue what she was doing and everyone called 'Looney Loganberry'. And it didn't matter that I was 5'11 with gangly limbs and painfully awkward mannerisms. And it didn't matter that I had no luck, I didn't miss it that much. Who knew what the future might hold?

Little did I know that it would hold tediously over used jokes, fake romances, and eating way too many Chocolate Frogs, tripping downstairs, summer wedding crashing, and bashing my head off of door frames way more than usual. I didn't realise how many more things were just waiting to happen, either.

And it all started with James bloody Potter 'procuring' himself a girlfriend.


	2. 1 'Procuring' oneself a lady friend

**Chapter One: Procuring oneself a 'lady friend'**

The sixth year girls' dormitory looked as though a bomb had landed, leaving various items of clothing, make-up and shoes splayed across beds, windowsills and in the bathroom. Groans in frustration, questioning of where items were, and hasty end-of-term packing sounded in the dorm, and I found it only natural to want to be as far away from the whole commotion as possible. Grabbing my book, placing my shrunken trunk into my back pocket, I escaped from the dorm before my flustered friend; Dorcas Meadows could suspect I had even left.

Staring around the unusually busy common room, I find my usual corner seat and attempt to melt into my surroundings. I didn't enjoy social gatherings as such, I much preferred to observe and not engage in such things, and therefore melting into my armchair seemed like the only way to stop anyone from noticing I even existed. I'm suddenly grateful for the fact that I have the 'gift' of being able to block out any unnecessary sounds when reading, otherwise the blaring wireless and the nonstop chatter would have driven me into St. Mungo's insanity ward.

But there are _some _sounds one can never block out. For instance, Lily Evans, the bipolar red headed muggle born, and her high pitched and annoyed voice.

"Why are some of my knickers missing, Potter?" she yells, her neck flushing an angry shade of red as she attracts the attention of various Gryffindor students.

I often find myself feeling sorry for James Potter, and his feeble attempts to get Lily to notice him. You can see the hurt in his eyes every time Lily rejects him, or laughs at his 'marriage' proposals. And it truly is saddening. But then I soon remember what an arse he can be, and that pity soon washes away.

"I didn't realise I took part in where and what you do with your knickers, Evans," James replies in an arrogant tone, running his hand through his hair with a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

Sometimes I don't understand why Lily doesn't give James a chance, he isn't the worst looking species of human. He's much better than Severus Snape, the greasy haired, hooked nosed Slytherin she used to be friends with. And even though I, personally, know nothing about guys or dating, you'd have to be an idiot not to see he cares for her.

I understand nothing of the romance world, or what goes on inside Lily Evans' head. And I don't think I would ever want to.

But I do know a good looking boy when I see one. I mean, there are some boys who just have those qualities that make them good looking, like Remus Lupin and his intelligence, and James Potter for his determination and unruly hair. And then there are those who are just annoyingly good looking, like Sirius Black, who no one can ever deny isn't handsome. It's sickening how he can pull off being a prankster, sustaining his high grades, and be so well groomed. He makes me look like troll feet in comparison.

"Listen, Potter, you need to stop this obsession you have with me," Lily snaps, the redness of her neck creeping up to her cheeks whilst she glares at him with the look I would hate to have trained on me. "I find it unnecessary and a little creepy."

"Why, Lily, haven't you heard the news?" James suddenly asks, after a moment or two of silent contemplation.

"What news?" she folds her arms across her chest, tapping her foot impatiently as if waiting for a lie to spill from his mouth, or perhaps the question she hears constantly.

"That I have procured a girlfriend."

Lily laughs darkly, examining him to see if he is lying through his teeth. "Oh yeah, Potter, who is the unlucky lady?"

"It's-"James' eyes scan the room, searching for an unfortunate girl to call his girlfriend. Members of his childish 'fan club' push themselves into his line of sight, pulling at each other's clothes and hair for them to move, just in order to be chosen. James' eyes then stop, and I begin to panic internally as he stares at me from behind his glasses.

Oh _bloody_ hell.

Oh no, no, no, no, no, _no._

Stop looking at me, Potter, I think to myself, hoping somehow that he is telepathic or able to read minds. Oh dear Merlin and his saggy Y-fronts, if you have any sympathy for the socially impaired you will revert your gaze elsewhere. Possibly to a girl vying for your love or that would die to be your pretend girlfriend.

"Her," James says pointing his finger in my direction, shattering my hopes for him being telepathic or a mind reader. Twenty odd girls spin around to face me, including the red faced, Lily.

Screw you, Merlin and your bloody Y-fronts to Azkaban.

Where is a black hole when you need one? Do they just magically disappear when you're in need of one? I feel like either dying, or throwing James Potter off of the astronomy tower. But then I see the hopeful look on his face, begging me wordlessly to play along with his charade, and I feel I owe him his dignity.

"You're dating, Looney Loganberry?" Lily asks, not even bothering to hide her blatant disgust as she stares me down.

"I wouldn't have said it if I wasn't," James answers in a matter-of-fact tone, and I swear I hear Lily's teeth grind together at the sound of it.

"I don't believe you."

"If she wasn't my girlfriend, would she allow me to do this?"

And without even a second glance at Lily's flushing face, he saunters over to me and grabs my wrists. My beloved book topples to the ground, and I fight the urge to bend down and pick it up and then run away screaming profanities at James Potter. He pulls me towards him and crashes his lips to mine.

I freeze, unable to respond to him. And as soon as he releases me, I feel like I'm about to vomit out my intestines. Not because James Potter is a bad kisser, just because of the fact he just kissed me in front of... _people_. I dislike people at the best of times, kissing in front of a group of people is not what I consider fun.

"See, Evans?" James says to the red head, now gripping onto my hand like a vice. "I _have _a girlfriend now; I don't need to be obsessed with you."


	3. 2 Of sprinting, lying and travelling

**Chapter Two: Of Sprinting, Lying, and Travelling**

Is this really, actually, seriously happening to me? How can I go from escaping the girls' dormitory, to being James Potter's fake girlfriend? What did I do to deserve this? Is it because I called Merlin's Y-fronts saggy? If that's the reason then, Merlin, I apologise, I don't doubt that your underwear aren't saggy.

"Loganberry, are you listening?" James snaps his fingers in front of my face repeatedly, pulling me harshly from my inner turmoil.

"Excuse me?" I slap his hands away from my face, trying to hide the fact that I haven't been listening for the past ten minutes. Ever since he dragged me away from the silent common room- without my book, I might add- and into the sixth year boy's dorm.

It's surprisingly neater than I expected, but I assume that's because it's the end of term and everything they own is packed into their trunks. Except for the strange smell wafting from under what I think is Peter Pettigrew's bed, everything is weirdly organised. But then I have to remind myself that this is the _boy's _dormitory.

More specifically the _Marauders' _dormitory.

I have a feeling this won't end well, there's no way I can convince myself that I won't fall off the bed, or that I'll be charmingly witty and flirty, or that I'll not say something that makes them think I'm a little bit weird. But I do know that I have to keep this situation from turning into some catastrophic, irreparable mess. That's easier said than done, though, right?

"I asked you if you were listening to me," James repeats impatiently, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Um, yes," I lie, knowing already that the Marauders are already growing weary with my lack of attention span, and my lack of replies.

"I do believe Loganberry is lying to us, Prongs," Sirius Black steps forward to include himself in the conversation, his arms folded securely around his chest and his eyes trained coldly on me.

Us...? Is this conversation not only between James and me, but between all of them and me? Have they got some psychic link that no one in Hogwarts is aware of? Or-

"Listen," I stand up from one of the beds I had been placed on like a sack of flour a few minutes previously. "Thanks for the, erm, k-kiss, but I really ought to be leaving. Dorcas will be wondering where I am, you know what she's like, she, erm, worries a lot. It's, um, been lovely talking to you all and seeing your pretty faces, but I need to leave."

"In what Planet did we allow you to think you were leaving?" James suddenly asks yanking me back down onto the bed with his hand firmly clamped around my wrist.

Oh Mother of Merlin. I knew I should have just stayed in the dormitory with the loud screeching and masses of clothes I don't wear. Then I wouldn't have to stick around and hear what they have to say about me and James' fake 'romance'. Because I know as well as they do that they wouldn't be associating with me otherwise.

"Listen, Loganberry, I need your help," James Potter sits down on the bed opposite mine, running a hand through his already unruly hair and staring at me awkwardly. "I need you to go along with this whole 'you're my public girlfriend' thing."

"And why would I do that?" I snap, a little harsher than I intended to. But James doesn't seem to notice, instead just stares at me for a while.

"Because I'll look like a total arse, if I don't date you."

"It's summer anyway, there's going to be no one to even see us together," I reason, making up excuses as I go along.

"Loganberry, you live ten minutes away from Lily Evans," Sirius drawls, quirking an eyebrow at me with a smirk etched across his face.

Bloody hell, that is true. I need another excuse-

"Dating me won't help you get Lily!" I blurt out before I can clap a hand to my mouth, to prevent the word vomit falling from my mouth.

"Of course it won't, she's incapable of jealousy," James rolls his eyes, as if he had already thought of this countless times.

"Back to my previous point, um, we won't see each other anyway," I avoid looking in any of the Marauder's eyes. "I live in a muggle estate, and you don't."

"Don't worry about that too much, we'll sort that out," Remus Lupin pipes up from his perch on the windowsill, where he has been sat playing Exploding Snap with Peter for the past however many minutes.

"Right, um, I'm going to leave now," I stand up for the second time, ready to run from the room. "See you at, erm, some point."

And then I sprint from the room as fast as my gangly limbs could carry me, I narrowly miss bashing my head off the door frame on the way out, and very nearly trip down the stairs. I grip the railing until I'm safely back into the now empty common room, and pant heavily as soon as I reach it.

"Where have you been, Luna?" Dorcas suddenly yells, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the portrait hole. "We're going to miss the carriages, if you don't hurry up and leave your fake boyfriend where he is."

And then, for the second time that day, I sprint down the staircases. Except this time it's hand in hand with my best friend, and I'm not escaping four idiots in a dormitory.

The train ride from Hogsmede to Kings Cross was an uneventful one. Well, I say uneventful, if uneventful means being pestered by James Potter's bloody fan club. As soon as I had found a compartment with Dorcas, I was questioned relentlessly: 'How did he ask me out? Was it romantic? Have we kissed before? What about Lily Evans? Is he a good kisser?'... I was practically mauled with words. That was until Dorcas threw her pumpkin pasty at one of them- which takes some doing since she barely ever parts with her food willingly- and they all sulked down the corridor.

"I can't wait to meet your parents," Dorcas squeals, linking arms with me as we cross the busy road in muggle London.

"They're nothing to be excited about," I mumble, knowing how long it had taken for me to convince my parents to allow someone 'like me' to stay over for a month.

"But they're _muggles_," she exclaims, her blonde hair whipping her face as a gust of wind swoops through the air.

"And they hate the fact that I can do magic," I hiss quietly at her, looking around the street for the nearest bus station.

"If they say anything about it, I'll protect you," she laughs, and I can't help but snort at her.

I look my best friend up and down, taking note of her small and fragile frame. And the fact that she barely stands at over five foot five and the fact that she would rather eat her hand than use violence any day. Dorcas and I had been friends since First Year, when I tripped over her bag and nearly fell headfirst into her potion. She had helped me up and told me that if I wanted to be her friend, all I had to do is ask. And from then on, we had been friends. We spend our time together tackling the Marauders mocking of my clumsiness, ignoring Lily Evans whenever she feels the need to yell at us for being late for curfew, and taking midnight trips to the kitchens.

"Luna, why are we just stood here?" Dorcas questions as we stand by the bus stop, her pale blue eyes staring at the pole curiously.

"We're waiting for a bus."

"What's a bus?" she questions again.

"Something you'd know about if you took Muggle Studies for you O. ."

And for that comment, I fell off the pavement.


End file.
